


Fall Into These Flowers

by FaramirsBlessing



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, I Made Myself Cry, Wakes & Funerals, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6997066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaramirsBlessing/pseuds/FaramirsBlessing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elliot's friends remember his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Into These Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the series was complete, so forgive any inaccuracies and just suffer with me. Rest in peace, sweet Elliot Nightray.

Alice wore them weaved through thick brown braids and carded through her waterfall of hair. Sharon wore them in her hair too, a small sprig adorning her bun, a few pinned to the collar of her dress. Reim, Gil, and Vincent wore them pinned to their breasts, Gil's pinned lovingly over his heart. Oz, eyes sad and devastated, had pinned them to the collar of his jacket, as has Ada, and Alice had adorned Oz's head with a crown of them- a crown of marigolds.

Leo wore the flowers on his empty sleeve. It had taken quite a bit of practice, but, eventually, Leo was able to pin the marigolds - their sharp, sweet smell burning his eyes with tears - onto the ruffles of the cuff.

He joined the others outside, not daring to meet their eyes, and led their solemn little procession down an empty hall, to the room where a grand piano lay, untouched but clean, bathed in a glow of warm sunlight. Leo's throat contracted and the breath caught in his chest, as it did every time he came into this room, before he regained some semblance of composure. He walked forward slowly, stepping close to the midnight black piano, hearing the others' footsteps quiet then still behind him. The black-haired boy, with shaking fingers, laid aside his small bouquet of statice and marigolds and pulled the aging flowers from the blue glass vase, their stems dripping with cold water that trickled down Leo's sleeve, their cold opposite the warmth of the liquid covering Leo's cheeks. Leo replaced the old flowers with the new ones, the faint purple of the statice complimenting the fire of the marigolds like some sort of painful sunset. A sunset of a young life.

Leo, hardly keeping himself together, maneuvered his long white fingers over his empty sleeve, picking a flower from the fabric. He placed the sunny flower in front of the small frame that stood next to the vase, a photo of Elliot in his white school uniform sitting cross legged under the shade of a willow, surrounded by music sheets and stacks of books. It was a special photo- a rare one- for it was captured at the most perfect of moments, a moment where Elliot lost his mask of grumpy stoicalness. Rather, Elliot was laughing, head leaning against the bark, pure joy and pleasure written all across his features. Leo couldn't bear to gaze at the photo for more than a moment before tearing his eyes away, heart in his throat. He took a small candle from Oz, and, with a motion he had practiced many times before, lit the candle with only one hand. He placed it, sitting in a porcelain mold of a marigold, next to the photo of Elliot. Then he moved back, clutching at his necktie, and motioned the others forward.

One by one the rest of the group stepped up to the piano, laying their marigolds and candles next to Elliot's photo. This was one of the best ways they could honor Elliot, given that Pandora had been in such a mess at the time of his death that they were never able to give the young Nightray a proper funeral. He had nothing more than a hurried grave marked with a stone cross. Now that things had calmed down a bit, the group of friends, all traumatized and marked by the trials they had gone through, agreed to hold a little memorial service for the beloved brother and friend.

Each person brought up a small token of affection and memory that reminded them of Elliot to place on the piano along with a marigold and a candle. Vincent carried a small stuffed kitten in his arms, a secret toy that Elliot had cherished as a small child and which Vince had kept hidden for him all these years. Gilbert cradled a small music box in his arm, one which played a tune that made Leo's heart clench in his chest. It was a familiar melody- an old childhood song that both Elliot and Leo knew and that Leo would catch Elliot humming sometimes when he was nervous. He would tease Elliot for it, but he adored the quick, frantic way Elliot would sing the song- it reminded him of Elliot's personality- rushed and fiery and eager. Leo swallowed and looked down as Gil placed the music box, lid open, on the piano, a rid rimmed marigold resting atop it.

Sharon held a delicate, beautiful teacup in her hands, one made of fragile china, hand painted with little trees and bluebirds while Reim held something even smaller hidden in his hands. Sharon laid the cup down beside Elliot's photo, tears rolling down her cheeks, letting her marigold float across the clear water she had filled the teacup with. Reim, one hand on Sharon's shoulder, opened his palm, and out tumbled a small piece of candy that was addressed to Elliot in Break's rolling script. Leo blinked. It occurred to him that Break must have left this small token of remembrance before he had died. He choked, feeling pained that Break had remembered Elliot so. Then Reim pulled out of his pocket a spare pair of his golden spectacles. Sharon chuckled wetly, and Leo remembered hearing, with much amusement, how Elliot had thought Reim was a legend for years. Reim lit a candle for himself, Sharon, and Break before stepping aside.

Then came Alice. She hadn't known Elliot very well, but she did her best at placing a small offering near his photo. Leo laughed quietly when he saw that it was a turkey leg. Of course it was. What else could it have been? Next to it, however, she placed a long purple ribbon, which Leo recognized that she had been wearing the night Elliot died. She lit her candle, then went to stand with Gil.

Next came Ada and Oz. Ada picked a marigold from her collar and placed it near Elliot's photo and Leo could hear her choking on quiet sobs. On the piano, she placed the collar of one of her school cats, one that Elliot had been secretly very fond of, then pulled out a small little sepia square from her pocket. Leo recognized it as a photo, then felt tears spring to eyes when he saw what the photo was of. It had been taken at the tea party. Ada was grinning at the camera, Elliot glaring behind her, Leo's glasses capturing the flash as he made a face at Elliot. He had no idea how Ada had gotten that picture, considering Elliot had destroyed every copy he could find, but he felt touched that Ada had protected it for so long. The Vessalius girl lit a candle for herself and one for her uncle before moving aside.

Finally came Oz. He stared at the piano and the little memorial for a while, tears stinging his green eyes, before stepping forward. He pulled the flower crown off his head and placed it across the picture frame, the flowers adorning the photo of Elliot with a wreath of gold and red. The blonde stepped back for a moment, swallowing hard, before reaching into a bag at his side and pulling out a book. Leo couldn't help the tears when he saw the Holy Knight symbol on the cover. He remembered when they first met Oz, a short blonde in the Lutwidge library, scrounging around finding Holy Knight books. Elliot had accosted him, spoiled a plot line, and the two had gotten into a huge fight. Leo hadn't been surprised- Elliot got into lots of arguments with the other kids at the school. But he was surprised at how quickly Oz grew fond of Elliot, despite his prickly temper, and desired to be his friend. Elliot had very few friends and it was much to Leo's delight that he had a new one. Unfortunately, that hadn't lasted long. Oz took a deep breath, opened a page of the book, and read a passage aloud, his voice shaking. Tears splashed onto the pages before Oz closed the book. He lit a candle, tried for a smile, then backed away.

Leo came up last. His gift was something very small, almost meaningless to anyone in the room. He had a sprig of blue statice clutched to his chest and he came forward. He moved past the top of the piano and stared down at the ivory and ebony keys in front of him. Painful and happy memories swept across him- memories of playing four handed pieces with Elliot, memories of staring at the piano keys and sobbing when he came back from Sablier and all that hell, and, most of all, the vivid tune of Statice. Leo didn't try to stop the tears that dripped upon the petals of the flowers, and he briefly ran his hand over the white keys, relishing the sound of the chords. He took a deep breath, then laid the sprig of statice across the keys.

"I'll miss you, Elliot. But . . . maybe you're not all gone." His eyes traveled to the memorial on the piano, photo and flowers and candles. He smiled. "After all," he murmured so quietly only the piano could hear, "statice means forever."


End file.
